


Begin Again

by LordStarryFace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Chuck likes pancakes, Could be seen as Wincest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s11e22 We Happy Few, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Tries, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Protective Dean Winchester, Wincest if you squint, s11e22, we happy few - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6963592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordStarryFace/pseuds/LordStarryFace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can't understand why Lucifer won't just leave his little brother alone. Cue protective big brother Dean and quietly freaking out Sammy. A story in which the 'no chick-flick moments' rule is temporarily postponed and God is forever making pancakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> Ah jeez. Behold my first fanfic posted for the eyes of the internet *breathes* I've been writing fanfiction for a good few years now but this is the first time I've posted online. This is either going to be a beautiful new beginning of fanfiction writing for me or it's going to go super bad XD apologies in advance for everyone being grossly out of character.. I am not good at representing characters and probably never will be. Hurrah!
> 
> Also I'm not sure if this actually fits with the Supernatural timeline (I can't remember if there was lull in-between this and the recruiting starting) and I'm not sure if Lucifer would ever turn to Castiel for advice but meh: tis fiction.
> 
> Furthermore this was supposed to be POV Dean but it switched in the middle to POV Sam and then back again and ugh, POVs are something that I'm working on and hope to get better at someday.

Chuck stared at Dean sadly before clapping a hand to the man’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay, Dean,” he murmured, eyes glittering compassionately, “I have faith that Lucifer will be more than compliant after our talk.

Dean seemed to come awake at that moment, shaking off his lingering feeling of unease and casting his eyes around the war room and then the library beyond. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Where _is_ Lucifer?”

Chuck cast a glance over the room too before adding, “and Sam..”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice, he took off for Sam’s room at break-neck speed with God on his heels, skittering to a halt in front of the heavy, open door and taking in the scene before him, “get away from him!” He barked, eyes flashing, as he stepped into the room.

Sam had backed himself up against the far wall, his eyes huge and glassy and looking like he was about to shake himself apart. His broad chest heaved in gasping breaths that whistled in and out of his nose: his jaw was clamped shut so tight Dean could see a nerve ticking in his cheek.

Lucifer wheeled around to glare at Dean from where he was stood at the foot of Sam’s bed. It would never not be disconcerting to see Cas’s kind, angelic face twisted up in the Devil’s frown. 

“But I’m not _doing_ anything,” he hissed at Dean, pulling a whimper from Sam, “I was trying to-”

“I couldn’t care a rat’s ass if you were _proposing_ to him,” Dean cut in, in a growl that was as low as it was fierce, “it couldn’t have been anything good if he looks like that.” He nodded his head in the direction of his little brother and Sam’s eyes finally pulled away from Lucifer’s face to lock gazes with Dean.

His forehead creased in upset at the sight of his older brother and he managed to whine a soft _“Dean”_ that had to elder of the two advancing forward only to have his path blocked by the Archangel. Dean faltered slightly: going head to head with Satan could do that to a man. He squared his shoulders as much as he could but before he could spit out a verbal attack, Chuck broke up the staring match with a clipped, “Lucifer.”

The Devil whirled on God and Dean slipped past him to get to Sam, jaw set in a grim line of determination and a furious frown between his brows. He caught Sam around the elbows with a quiet, “you okay, Sammy?” Just as Lucifer began ranting.

“Father! I was simply taking a leaf out of your _oh so righteous_ book and-”

Sam keened again, wild eyes flickering from Lucifer to Dean and back again and Dean seethed, turning back to look at God and his Son and hissing, “would you _knock it off!”_

Chuck flashed his gaze over to the brothers then snapped his fingers quickly with an apology in his eyes.

Dean and Sam landed with a soft jolt onto the floor of Dean’s bedroom and Sam sank, soundlessly onto the mattress behind him.

Dean sighed softly and gently sat next to his brother; as close as he dared without risking spooking Sam away, “are you alright, Sam?” he asked again, hoping to get an answer this time.

Sam looked at him, side-long, with wet, haunted eyes before blowing out a long breath that made his shoulders slump, “I’m okay, Dean,” he murmured quietly, “I think I may have overreacted.”

Dean wanted to wipe that sad, self-depreciating look right off of Sam’s face but he gritted his teeth against the urge and instead curled his left knee up onto the bed so he could face his brother better. Show he was listening better. “I’m sure you were more than justified, Sammy.. after everything he did to you,” he offered quietly, not sure if it was the right choice to bring the past up so bluntly.

To Dean’s relief, Sam merely huffed, with a wry, albeit sad smirk to his mouth, “would you believe me,” he started, vulnerable eyes still trained on the wall ahead, “if I told you that Lucifer was trying to apologise to me.”

Dean blinked; then blinked again, “he did _what?”_

Sam finally turned to face his brother, mirroring Dean and pulling his inside leg up onto the bed, “he tried to apologise for, well, _everything.”_

Dean tried to digest what he was hearing, green eyes passing back and forth over Sam’s before scowling and gritting out, “surely he’s got an ulterior motive in play, Sammy. That just doesn’t sound like the Devil to me.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, looking down at where he was picking at the laces of his boot and then back up, “he said that he spoke with Cas. He said that it was Cas that encouraged him to give Chuck a chance to talk; he said that it made him think about things that had happened in the past that maybe he wanted to make amends for now. You’ve got to remember that he was an Angel before he was the Devil and that he hasn’t had the Mark in a long time. Maybe this is how he was before.” Sam trailed off, eyes shining still but looking more settled than he had ten minutes ago.

“Maybe, Sammy,” Dean huffed, “but I still don’t like the way you looked when he was trying to _apologise_ to you.”

Sam gave that little self-depreciating chuckle again that was slowing becoming his trademark thing and Dean winced at how much he hated it, “I guess that was just me being stupid. It was definitely psychological because he wasn’t even being threatening; it was me that bolted for the corner of the room; he left the door wide open with more than enough space for me to run if I wanted to and he really didn’t say anything bad at all. It’s just,” Sam gave a visible shudder then, “being alone with him in a small space and sometimes just his _voice-”_

“Okay, okay, Sammy,” Dean gentled, shuffling closer as Sam started to lose his cool again, “shh, deep breaths, kiddo. You’re safe in here with me.” He slid an arm around Sam’s too-wide shoulders and tugged slightly, “c’mon, little brother.”

And Sam went willingly, curling into Dean’s body and nosing his face into the strong column of his neck as his tears finally began to fall. A long arm curved around Dean’s middle and the elder brother shushed him kindly and held him tighter.

Sam shivered slightly and let a soft sob slip past his lips, “I’m such a mess, Dean,” he croaked, trying to push himself further under his brother’s chin.

“How can you say that, Sammy?” Dean husked, “You’re so strong, little brother. There’s not a lot of men on earth that would have the balls or the _humanity_ to put their shoulder under Satan himself because he couldn’t walk on his own. I certainly wouldn’t have done it and I damn near nearly choked on my beer when you told me that you did.” He gave Sam’s shoulder a squeeze, “you’re so much more than what he did to you, Sam and I think even _he_ sees that now.”

“I hope so,” Sam sniffed somewhere around his collarbone, “thank you, Dean,” he added in a hushed breath.

Dean just held him a little tighter in response. “How about we get a nap in, huh? I could sure as hell use one.”

Sam pulled back a little and swiped at his eyes, smiling sheepishly, “yeah okay, um, just lemme clean up a bit first.” He stood on shaky legs and Dean was half tempted to put a hand on the small of his back to steady him but he found his balance soon enough and began to shuffle towards the door. Dean was glad for the bathroom directly opposite his own as he watched Sam nervously crack open the door and sweep his eyes up and down the corridor before stepping out. Dean sighed as the door snicked to and he rubbed at his tired eyes before tackling his boot laces and tugging them off of his feet one after the other. He stripped out of his day clothes, pulling on instead his favourite sweats and a worn-soft tee shirt; he toed off his socks last, making sure to quickly get his bare feet off of the cold floor by tucking them up under himself where he sat on the bed. 

Sam didn’t take too long in the bathroom, carefully coming back into the room and closing the door behind him with a soft smile to his brother. Dean clicked on the bedside lamp and Sam killed the overhead lights with the switch by the door and he quickly got to toeing off his boots and grappling with the belt on his jeans. Dean watched as Sam stripped out of his plaid shirt and jeans, leaving him in his socks, boxer briefs and tee shirt. He padded over to the bed and waited for Dean to bury himself under the covers on his preferred side then offer the other to Sam. Curling up under the sheets of the same bed with his big brother never failed to remind Sam of long, cold nights in crappy motel rooms, waiting for their Dad to come back from the hunt. Dean had always been a solid, strong presence in Sam’s young life; a hero, a guardian, a safe place but things had changed now and Sam couldn’t help a small smile as he burrowed down into the pillows.

“What?” Dean asked quietly, from where he was laid on his side and watching his brother get comfortable.

“I was just thinking,” Sam said, equally as soft, as he turned to face his brother as well, “when we were younger, and we used to do this all the time, you were this huge, safe _existence_ in my life and I looked to you for literally everything. I expected you to protect me.”

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice wavered lowly, not quite sure where his brother was going with this.

“It’s just that, when I look back over the years; over everything that we’ve been through together, I guess I never really realised that that had changed so much.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, brow frowning in confusion and maybe a hint of sadness.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Dean,” Sam said, catching on to how he must be sounding and shuffling a little closer to his brother for good measure, “I just mean that I’m so, humbled I guess, at the fact that you let me protect you sometimes too. Humbled that you trust me enough to let me in; to see that you’re not perfect and that you’re not always in control of a situation and that you _do_ get scared,” Sam shrugged, looking down and picking at the covers, “I’m just humbled. And I’m grateful and I hardly ever say thank you.”

“Sam,” Dean hushed, eyes wide and slightly speechless.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, looking up with a small smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “no chick-flick moments.”

Dean huffed a startled laugh and pulled his brother to him, “I think that argument’s always been a bit invalid, Sammy.”

He felt Sam smile against his neck and then one of Sam’s arms were winding around his waist.

“You drive me insane sometimes,” Sam huffed good-naturedly, “but you’re more than just my big brother: you’re my best friend too, hell, you’re my everything actually. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

“Likewise, Sammy,” Dean murmured into Sam’s hair and if his voice was slightly choked with tears, he could just blame that on lack of sleep..

A good few hours later and Dean and Sam walked calmly into the library. Lucifer looked up from where he was sat in one of the plush arm chairs by the book cases; he went to stand but Sam waved him back into his seat. He plucked a chair from the table and placed it across from where Lucifer was sitting as Dean took a seat at the table, eyeing him warily.

Lucifer glanced back and forth between the two suspiciously but remained silent.

Sam sat down in his newly-placed chair and leant his elbows on his spread knees, “I’m listening,” he said quietly, looking Lucifer dead in the eyes. When Lucifer just continued to stare at him he added, “I promise not to freak out this time.”

The Archangel shifted slightly in his chair, “you heard me the first time.”

“Yeah but Dean didn’t,” Sam said, nodding over to his brother.

Lucifer cast his eyes over to Dean and the elder Winchester glowered at him from his seat at the table. Lucifer frowned slightly before looking back at Sam, “recent events have led me to feel the urge to apologise to you.. both,” he added, glancing again at Dean and then back to Sam, “for the things that I’ve done in the past. I have not cared for my father’s creations in the way that he wished of me and as such have hurt you on more than one occasion. Castiel speaks highly of you and I have come to respect his opinion.”

Sam smiled slightly, “thank you,” he stood up and snugged his chair back under the table before turning to lean on the back of it. He locked eyes with Lucifer, “I’m not sure if I can ever forgive what you did but I appreciate your apology and I want this to be a new start for us.”

Sam nodded to himself then quietly walked out of the room.

Dean and Lucifer eyed each other for a moment and then Dean stood and walked over to the Archangel. Lucifer scowled slightly from his perch in the chair but Dean made no move to attack verbally or physically; he simply held out a hand to the Devil.

Lucifer eyed the hand and then flicked his eyes back to Dean’s face. Slowly, he reached out a hand of his own and clasped it firmly around Dean’s. They held for a moment, still looking right at each other then shook firmly and Dean broke away with a nod. He paced out of the room after Sam and Lucifer was left staring after him with an unreadable gaze.

Sam was sat heavily at the kitchen counter, bemusedly watching Chuck flip pancakes. His warm hazel eyes flicked to Dean as he thumped down the kitchen steps. Dean took a seat across from Sam and nodded briefly at Chuck.

“Better?” Sam asked with a small smile and an inquisitive quirk to his eyebrows.

Dean looked at his brother and thought about it for a few moments before deciding, “yes.” He gave Sam a small smile of his own and reached out to grip his little brother’s shoulder in a show of solidarity, “what’re the chances of us getting some pancakes over here, Chuck?” He posed with a wry grin.

Sam reached up to his own shoulder to give Dean’s work-rough hand a squeeze before turning his legendary puppy eyes on God and matching Dean’s grin with one of his own.


End file.
